


Marriage

by PoppyCartinelli



Series: Cartinelli Week August 2015 [4]
Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Cartinelli - Freeform, Cartinelli Week, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 06:52:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4554936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoppyCartinelli/pseuds/PoppyCartinelli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Funny things happen to the Director and the Angry Italian Woman still marries her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marriage

**Author's Note:**

> I love this one. I done good here.

“Margaret Carter, I walk down this isle in fifteen minutes, if you are not waiting at the alter in your dress, I swear to god…”

 

Fifteen minutes earlier:

“Agent Thompson, in thirty minutes I will be marrying an Italian woman. Have you ever seen an angry Italian woman?”

Thompson shifted, this wasn’t going to end well, “Er, no Director.”

“Well, I have faced mad scientists, super soldiers, lunatics, Nazis, and sniper fire and I would happily take any of them over an angry Italian woman. Now, if you hand me one more report, I am going to hand it to my soon-to-be-wife as explanation as to why I am late, do you know what I am going to tell her?”

Thompson began to sweat, “Er, no Director.”

“I am going to tell her that my good-for-nothing Agent decided that this report on,” Peggy glanced at the cover of the folder still resting in Thompson’s hand, “field positions, which a five-year-old could review, was more important than our marriage. Now, Agent Thompson, how do you think she is going to take that?”

Thompson lowered his hand, “Er, not well Director.”

“Exactly. Now,” Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. Peggy Carter turned to her desk drawer and, with an angry tug, opened it to extract an entire wedding gown, “I am going to change in a helicopter which, SOUSA!”

A voice came from down the hall, “It’s already waiting for you on the roof Director!”

Peggy turned back to Jack, “is already on the roof waiting for me.” Peggy pushed past Thompson, already unbuttoning her jacket, “Good day, Agent Thompson.”

“Congratulations Director.” Thompson almost withered at the look Peggy spared him.

 

In the helicopter:

“… The entire government will not be able to find your corpse!”

“Darling I’m already on my way, I’ll be there in-“

“What’s all that noise?”

“It’s the helicopter propellers darling.” 

Peggy conceded once again, that yes, Howard Stark was a genius. He had fabricated some sort of cordless phone type of device that Peggy still wasn’t sure how to fully use. But she could make a call on it and that’s all she needed right now. 

Half in her wedding gown and half in her undergarments, trying futilely to appease her soon-to-be-wife, the Director of a non-existent government branch looked particularly harried. The pilot had started by not looking back at all, but years of marriage and late government work gave him an empathy to rival Mother Teresa, he caught Peggy’s eyes and did his best to convey his sympathy. If Peggy was anyone else, she’d have burst into tears. 

Sousa had also started this venture by nonchalantly looking out the window. But as the minutes passed, and the struggling of his Director grew, he began to pitch in his efforts. 

Now, Peggy had the ridiculously large phone device resting between her ear and shoulder, was forcing her left arm into the gown, and Sousa was making a valiant attempt to get the equally, ridiculously large heels onto her feet. Sousa himself was already in his suit, tie proper and hair slicked back, he frowned at the circumstance he was in. He wasn’t even the best man.

“Darling, I am almost there, I will see you in less than two minutes-“

Sousa was glad the helicopter was loud.

“Yes, darling, I know, I am not going to be late.”

The pilot grimaced through his com. 

“Yes darling.”

The helicopter neared the church.

“Angie?”

The pilot brought the helicopter to a halt over the white steeples and black shingles. 

“I love you, darling.”

A skylight opened and a man with a moustache waved upwards. 

 

Sousa didn’t offer Peggy a harness, he didn’t even harness himself in, he just sighed and jumped. 

The incredibly elderly priest that Howard had known for years really didn’t register the woman sliding down the rope in front of him. Nor did he really register the vast majority of the wedding, but he was a nice enough fellow. He would later recall (later that evening that is) that the wedding was rather odd at the start but settled down to be a fine ol’ thing. 

The music was starting as Peggy let go of the rope, she straightened her dress and tucked a curl of hair back behind her ear. Howard smiled and gave her two thumbs up. She took a deep breath as the helicopter’s incessant whirring dissipated into the organ’s grandiose notes and turned around. 

 

The assembled guests were small in number; the few Howling Commandos left, a few of Angie’s actor friends, Anna Jarvis as Angie’s Maid of Honor, Edwin Jarvis, who agreed to walk Angie down the aisle, and Howard Stark, Peggy’s Best Man. Or Best Buffoon as they would joke about much later. 

The doors of the hall opened and the guests stood. Anna all but squealed, Howard bit back the whistle he instinctively puckered for, and Peggy just about fainted. 

Angela Martinelli wore the dress Peggy had picked out for her, as Peggy wore the one Angie picked for her. The dress was lace from the fingertips to the throat and a solid flower pattern from her bosom to her heels. The veil that covered Angie’s face had the same flower pattern but was made of lace. 

There were many times Peggy Carter had called Angie Martinelli an Angel, but none fitted so much as this moment.

Peggy didn’t really notice Jarvis, but the smile on his face reminded Anna of their own wedding day. She swooned just a bit.

When Angie finally reached the alter, Peggy held out her hand, “You look radiant, my Angel.”

“You look like you just jumped out of a helicopter,” Angie took the proffered hand and the priest cleared his lungs like one would clear the hundred year old bagpipes one’s great-grandfather left one in a very yellowed will. 

 

The beginning of the wedding went great, a bit longer winded (and filled with more coughing) than Peggy had hoped for, but overall, quite decent. 

“Does the Best Man have the ring?” 

Howard dove his hand into his pocket, his eyes widened, Peggy’s head began to turn toward him. 

“I have it here, sir,” Jarvis handed the elegant gold band to Peggy and stepped back into his position. Only Anna and Howard really noticed the twinkle in his eye. Howard hated that twinkle.

“Do you, Angela Martinelli, take this woman, Margaret Carter to be your wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

Angie smiled from under her veil, “I do”

Peggy let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“And do you, Margaret Carter, take this woman, Angela Martinelli to be your wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

Peggy stopped the sob that threatened to overtake her, “I do”

“Then you may kiss the bride,” the priest frowned, “brides.”

Peggy smiled and her hands drifted up Angie’s arms. She could see Angie’s smile under the veil, it reminded her of long past secrets. 

_No more,_ she thought as she lifted the veil, _till death do us part._

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on my Tumblr: Poppy Cartinelli as a part of the Cartinelli Week hosted on Tumblr.
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. Also, the after party with the Howling Commandos was something to behold. I can only imagine Jarvis’ reaction to them.
> 
> “There’s dirt on the _ceiling,_ Anna!"


End file.
